


He became my puppet master

by latias_likes_pizza



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn is his own warning, Blood, Blood and Injury, Brainwashing, Gen, Mind Control, Murder, Poor Prompto, not entirely canon compliant, un-betaed so yeah forgive my inevitable typos, written at midnight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latias_likes_pizza/pseuds/latias_likes_pizza
Summary: There were gaps in Prompto's memory.It terrified him.Especially when he woke up with blood on his hands.





	He became my puppet master

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyrecho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/gifts).



> Based off Jose's AU ramblings with me altering one or two things SO THAT I DON'T CRY OF ANGST AT FUCKING MIDNIGHT
> 
> Not canon-compliant for Episode Prompto or Ignis.
> 
> Love you Jose.

There were gaps in Prompto’s memory.

Okay, he’d never had a perfect memory but it wasn’t ever this bad before and it’s like whole portions of the day went missing with no explanation and it was really freaking him out. And it was always after he and the guys would split up and he could remember splitting up to go get stuff in whatever place they were in and going off on his own for photos then. Nothing. Just blanks. No idea of what he did or where he went.

He’d tried researching it in his downtime but he still had no idea what was causing this. These gaps had started cropping up shortly after Titan. Right now, Prompto’s current theory was that with all the shit that was exploding he’d breathed something in that had caused some kind of damage. He had no better ideas than that.

And it wasn’t like he could go talk to the guys about this. Ignis would freak out, so would Noctis, and who knows what the fuck Gladio would say? Plus… whenever Prompto thought about going to talk to them or a doctor, something would just make him panic and shut up. There was something deep inside that told him that that would be an _extremely_ bad idea. So, yeah. He wasn’t going to talk to anyone about it anytime soon.

Now, here he was, standing amongst the trees near the Vesperpool, no idea how he’d got there after going off to take a photo of the nearby lake. He’d checked his camera and there was a solitary photo of the lake that looked innocent enough. But when he’d taken it was a mystery to him. Oh, and his jacket was off and his right arm was aching like hell. Jacket was in the Armiger, thank God. No explanation for the arm.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

He’d have to deal with this later. The sun was setting and Prompto had agreed to meet up with Noctis and Ignis at the Regalia before they went to Aranea. He just had to put a smile on, show them the one (thankfully perfect) photo he’d taken, and boom. They’d be ore hunting in no time. No need to panic about today’s episode of memory loss. Oh Six, please don’t let there be a need to panic about the memory loss.

Sure it was freaky when they spoke to Ardyn again later and he mentioned about not wanting to keep Noctis for too long, less his EXP bonus on King’s Knight run out. Like, how had Mister Creepy McCreepface known that? Was he really a stalker? And _why_ did Ardyn knowing that feel like it was Prompto’s fault somehow?

Why was this happening?

* * *

 

The next major memory gap, one which seemed to be upwards of two hours, happened in Altissia. And this time, Prompto found himself in a destroyed alley with _blood_ on his _hands_. It was drying, sticking, and oh gods he was going to be sick. Why was there blood on his hands? It wasn’t his blood, he wasn’t bleeding that badly from anywhere. Nononono. Had he hurt somebody?

Who’s blood was it? Prompto needed to know _now_. Maybe he’d tried to help somebody during the episode of memory loss. That had to be it. There was no way, no way at all that he’d hurt somebody that badly. Nuh uh. He wouldn’t do that, he’d never do that. If only he’d just _remember_ what the fuck had happened.

_“I know it’s not you! Please, wake u- ARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!”_

Oh shit. No. Please don’t let that be a potential memory. Please just let that be some shit from a TV show that was randomly playing through his head. No. Prompto didn’t do that. Prompto didn’t hurt somebody. He couldn’t have. Don’t let that be real. Let it be a nightmare, the kind of nightmare you get when a series of black lines on your wrist label you as something NH.

Not human.

The words echoed in his head. Somebody had said that to him. He just couldn’t remember.

Swallowing his fear, Prompto made his way to the secretarial estate. Everything seemed calm now. Leviathan was gone, the Empire was gone. The others had to be at the estate. Noctis, probably Luna now, Gladio, Ignis if he was okay. Wait. Why would Ignis probably not be okay and not the others? Why did he think that? Ignis was strong. Ignis could survive anything, even debilitating things.

_Wait, what the actual fuck?_

Prompto was now ninety-nine percent sure that he was losing his mind.

Hours later, at the secretarial estate, somebody told him that Ignis had been brought in. Prompto rushed to the room they’d put him in, eager to see his friend. And then he paused and almost puked because oh gods, Ignis was definitely Not Okay. Gods, his _eyes_. And there was so much blood around them, it was horrifying.

This was wrong.

“Ignis?” Prompto whispered.

“Prompto? Is that you?” Ignis replied with a croaky voice. “I… well… could you come closer?”

Prompto went to stand next to Ignis’s bed. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Ignis asked.

No.

Gods.

No.

Please.

This can’t…

Don’t let…

“No. I… my head was hurting and I don’t remember much and oh gods what happened?”

“Oh good. You… you were nearby so I was scared that you saw. It… wasn’t pleasant. If it’s alright, I don’t want to talk about it,” Ignis said.

Prompto nodded before he realised that Ignis wouldn’t be able to see. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

Ignis didn’t lie often. He wasn’t lying now. Prompto had to believe that. He had to. Screw that Ignis didn’t seem convinced by what he said or that he hesitated or that he expected Prompto remembered what happened. Screw all that shit. Ignis had to be telling the truth now because if he wasn’t then what the fuck did that mean for Prompto?

Gods, he was so _scared_.

* * *

 

The small gaps took over and Prompto was so grateful. Until the train, that was. Until, after the mines, when he ‘woke up’ surrounded by the bodies of innocents and somebody screaming at him to get away and so much blood around him, so much blood on his hands, and it’s so much like Altissia but this time worse and he actually puked this time.

He needed to remember. Fuck, he needed to _remember_!

But remembering or not remembering had to wait because he could see Ardyn making his way up to the roof and Prompto had to stop him. Prompto had to stop him because all of this was his fault, it had all started with him. It had to be him. He’d been everywhere where things went wrong. He turned up near the big gaps, the scary gaps that left him ‘waking’ with tears tracking down his face and blood on his hands.

Prompto climbed the roof and ran towards Ardyn. There were Magitek carriers overhead that were exploding one by one. Something blue was whizzing between them and of course that had to be Noctis. Noctis, who, right before this latest memory gap, was chasing him and strangling him and telling him it was all his fault. Noctis, who was his best friend. Noctis, who seemed to hate him and maybe he’d done something in a gap.

Gods, what had he done?

“Hey! Ardyn!” Prompto yelled, raising his gun.

Ardyn turned and raised his hands in surrender. But the way he did it was _mocking_. So damn mocking. “Why! You’ve caught me! Little puppet has done something on his own!”

Pup…pet…?

But there’s no time to demand for Ardyn to stop being cryptic because Noctis warps down and strikes him and he falls and oh gods, Noctis hates him. Oh gods, what has he done? Why is this happening? Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! And he’s landing, and his head is hurting, and for once he knows why everything is going dark.

Puppet?

* * *

 

One identity crisis later, one bout of torture later, one rescue later, one big reveal later, and Prompto was now worried that the MT thing is even bigger than he thought it was. He hadn’t actually learnt all that much about how the minor electronics and chips in him functioned or how his brain was programmed or anything. And that was now scaring him.

And the latest gap didn’t help either. One minute he was staying up while the others slept and the next he was outside the dorm while a distant announcement told him that the daemon subjects were being released into the main facility. He quickly made his way back into the room and thank the gods none of the others were awake yet because otherwise he’d be yelled at.

Oh shit.

But then Ravus was there, half-daemon, and at one point he grabs Prompto by the shoulders and asks him _why_ and Prompto vaguely remembers an empty syringe with the remains of daemon blood or scourge or whatever it’s called and a puncture wound just above the Magitek arm. No. He couldn’t have.

Puppet?

No. He was not.

He could not.

This was all some prolonged nightmare. He’d wake up in his mouldy apartment and this would all be a bad, prolonged nightmare. He wanted to cry. This had to be a nightmare.

Then the daemons came swarming in and Prompto remembered the announcement at the end of the latest gap. Nonono. Then Noctis is running ahead and then they break free and they’ve almost made it to the crystal and no. Noctis got sucked in and Ardyn wouldn’t die when they killed him. And things are just _scary_.

He wanted to wake up so bad.

* * *

 

The longer gaps get more frequent during the years of darkness.

The occasions where he wakes up with blood on his hands get more frequent.

More than once, Prompto has been the only person to return from a hunting party. He’d tell everyone ‘daemons’ and they’d understand because he’s had training that many of them haven’t and live experience against the daemons that they haven’t and it made sense. Except Prompto would come back after memory gaps and blood on his clothes.

He hadn’t told Ignis and Gladio yet. He hadn’t told anyone. The fear was still there.

One time, Cindy saw him spacing out and tried to get him to snap out of it. He started strangling her. Later, she was so kind and understanding. She knew he had shit going on. After everything, everyone had shit going on. And they’d trusted her enough to let her know a little bit about the torture so yeah. There’s that. But Prompto woke up from a gap with his hands around her neck and it’s not just the shock or whatever. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing for about an hour before.

Supply stores would get burnt and Prompto would wake up with burns on his hands.

People would mysteriously die and Prompto would wake up in the middle of scrubbing blood out of his clothes.

Equipment would get trashed and Prompto would wake up with tears in his clothes and scraps of metal stuck to him.

Puppet?

Puppet.

It took five years of it all getting increasingly frequent before he snapped. He left the camera, just in case Noctis came back and wanted the photos. But he packed a rucksack of clothes and food and made for a haven. He couldn’t be around people. He wasn’t safe. There was no point in denying it anymore. He was doing this. He had to be.

Prompto cried with every step he took.

He almost reached the haven when he stopped because he heard a familiar voice. Ardyn, not bothering to play any tricks with illusions this time. Prompto didn’t even try to summon a gun. There was no point. It wouldn’t kill Ardyn. And at this point, he really didn’t care what happened to him.

“Poor dear. All by your lonesome,” Ardyn said. Fuck that mocking tone. “Bet your poor little head’s all scrambled and confused.”

“Just fuck off or kill me already,” Prompto replied.

Ardyn smiled. Sadistic son of a bitch. “Now, now. By Imperial Order… _remember_.”

Six.

No.

Please don’t make me.

_The programming reactivated at Cauthess, a setting all MTs have in case they go rogue._

_Ardyn meeting up with him, getting him to report on everything the guys were doing. Everything he knew about Cor’s meagre resistance. Everything_.

Stop!

_Ardyn beating the fear of telling anyone into him._

_Killing a little girl who had stumbled upon them._

No!

_Altissia. Ignis._

_“Blind him.”_

_A small knife in his hands._

_“I know it’s not you! Please, wake u- ARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!”_

_Blood on the knife, on his hands, running down Ignis's face._

NO! NO! STOP IT!

_Killing the people on the train._

_Letting daemons into Gralea so that they could feast on innocents._

_Injecting Ravus with the scourge that activated what was already in his arm, even as he weakly struggled and begged._

_Letting the daemons into Zegnautus Keep._

I didn’t! That wasn’t… I’m not… stop, please.

_Murdering the hunters that he’d been scouting with._

_Destroying EXINERIS powerlines._

_Burning the supplies, trashing the equipment._

_Strangling Cindy._

Stoooop… please…

By the end of it all, Prompto was sobbing on the ground while Ardyn stood above him. He barely registered as Ardyn lifted his chin up and forced him to look into amber eyes.

“Come now, little puppet. I wonder how you can hurt the King next. By Imperial Order, follow me. And be aware of _everything_ that you do.”

* * *

 

Prompto’s aware, now.

He’s aware of every hunter he murders.

Every act of sabotage he commits.

He’s aware as Ardyn forces him to listen as he tells his friends his crimes.

Noctis is there.

He’s aware as he fights them, tries to kill them, almost succeeds.

He’s awake as Ardyn dies and the sun rises and somehow Noctis survives and goes to sit next to him and holds him as he cries.

But six… he didn’t want to be awake or aware.

He was just a fucking puppet in the end.

No amount of love or ‘ever at your side’ was ever going to fix him now.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, in her version, Prompto's corpse was hanging in the throne room.
> 
> You got off lightly.


End file.
